


Keep Breathing

by katikat



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 12:04:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12794169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katikat/pseuds/katikat
Summary: Based on the 209 promo and on what Bozer said about Mac in 207, that when they were younger, Mac helped him out of a big mess because he believed in second chances. Bozer’s POV. (Unbeta'd)





	Keep Breathing

As Bozer rounds the corner, his sneakers skid on the hospital linoleum with a loud squeal and he barely misses an elderly man on crutches. He apologizes profusely and then he runs on - only to be stopped by a burly man in jeans who steps in front of him with one hand raised commandingly, the other resting on the butt of a gun barely hidden beneath a leather jacket.

“It’s okay, Peter, he’s with me,” Matty calls from down the corridor and the man, apparently Peter, steps to the side and allows Bozer to pass.

At any other time, this would scare Bozer witless - the guy, head and shoulders taller than he, the gun - but not today. Today, he’s already moving on, his eyes on Matty who’s waving him closer with a grim look on her face.

“What’s going on? What’s happening?” Bozer blurts out as he stops in front of her. Then something catches his eye, something behind the interior window on his right - and his breath hitches in his throat.  _Mac…_

Slowly, he steps towards the window and rests one hand against its frame. There, in the room, Mac’s lying in a hospital bed with machines beeping and blinking all around him. He’s asleep or unconscious… and he’s breathing through a tube!

“Matty…?” Bozer whispers, dread making his voice sound hoarse.

She steps closer. “There was an…  _accident_ , Bozer,” she replies softly.

He swallows hard. “Accident? What kind of an accident?”

Matty sighs. “The team was sent to recover a canister of deadly nerve gas that was stolen from our old lab. It came to a shoot-out with the thieves and… one of the bullets nicked the canister. Mac managed seal the hole” –she pauses– “but not before he breathed in some of the gas, enough to burn his respiratory system.”

_Deadly nerve gas? What the hell?_

Bozer looks down at her. “His lungs? It damaged his lungs? How bad?”

“We don’t know yet,” Matty admits grimly. “He was still breathing on his own, more or less, when they brought him in, which the doctors took as a good sign. They remain optimistic–”

“Optimistic?” Bozer interrupts her. “Matty, look at him! He’s breathing through a goddamn  _tube_!”

“They put him on a ventilator to ease the strain on his lungs,” Matty explains patiently and kindly, not at all offended by his harsh tone. “It’s to help him heal, Bozer. It’s  _good_ for him.”

_Good for him?_ Bozer wants to rage. He wants to shout at Matty that this is their fault, the foundation’s, that they had no place storing a nerve gas, a damn  _nerve gas_ , in the first place! If not for their hinky business, Mac wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed right now, looking so haggard and gray and with his lips still tinged blue!

And another thing: where was Jack and Cage when that happened? Them with the  _guns_? He turns to Matty to ask her exactly that when something else draws his attention, there, inside the hospital room.  _Jack_.

Jack’s sitting in a chair by Mac’s bed, partially hidden in the shadows and completely unmoving, that’s why Bozer didn’t notice him at first. He sits there with his shoulders hunched and his elbows on his knees, face hidden in his hands… a portrayal of misery. Bozer’s anger dissipates.

“Are Jack and Cage alright?” he asks in a subdued voice, eyes still on Jack’s bowed head.

“Yes,” Matty assures him. “Mac locked himself away with the ruptured canister before the gas could’ve hit them, too. They managed to catch the thieves, so Cage’s interrogating them now to find out who they were working for; Riley’s helping her track the money they were paid. And Jack…”

She turns towards the wall behind which the room’s situated. The window is set so high that she can’t actually see in but it’s as if she’s looking right at Jack, her expression is so stricken.

“Jack hasn’t left Mac’s side since it happened. If he could, he would  _breathe_ for him, Bozer,” she adds emphatically, “it wasn’t their fault.”

Bozer looks at her for a long moment, then he nods and turns back to Mac. He leans against the window and stares at his friend with a lump in his throat. “He’ll be okay, right? Please, Matty, tell me Mac will be okay.”

She reaches out and touches his hand. “The doctors remain hopeful. It’ll take some time - it won’t happen overnight, you need to be prepared for that - but unless complications occur, he should recover.”

Swallowing hard, Bozer leans his forehead against the cool glass. “He has to, Matty. He just  _has to_.”

When she squeezes his hand in support, he looks back at her again. “By the way, thanks for getting me out of the school. I really appreciate it. They didn’t want to let me leave, not even for this.”

Matty smiles at him. “I figured if I didn’t arrange a leave for you, you would just run away.”

He smiles too, fleetingly. “Yeah, I would. The school, this opportunity, it means a lot to me. It really does. But not as much as Mac. I could never stay there and go to class and-and cram for tests , knowing that Mac’s hurt.”

“He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?” Matty says gently.

Bozer nods. “He’s not just my best friend, he’s like a brother. Without him, I wouldn’t be here today. And I don’t mean just working for the foundation, but here, having an actual life.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, honestly interested.

He turns back to the window and looking at Mac, he tells her, “You know that he went to MIT at seventeen, right? But he could’ve gone much sooner. He stayed home for his grandfather. And for me. God, I was so pissed at him when I found out.” He smiles a little. “I mean, I wanted him to  _never_ leave, of course, he was my bestie, but… at the same time I was furious with him for throwing such an opportunity away! You just don’t do that!”

He shakes his head. “So, I made him go. But then he was gone and I was still stuck there, alone. And over time, I got angry at him for leaving.” He grimaces. “Yeah, I was a brat back then. A stupid, selfish, good for nothing idiot. And I got in with the bad crowd and I started doing bad shit. Jesus, I was so dumb.”

Sighing, he shakes his head again. “And then Mac came home and when he found out what I’d been up to while he was gone he-he didn’t chew me out. He just got this…  _sad_ look on his face, you know? And that was so much worse. I felt embarrassed and that made me even angrier, mostly at myself.

“But then he told me that he quit school and enlisted, that he was going to Afghanistan, of all places! Bomb disposal, in  _Afghanistan_ , would you believe that?” Bozer exclaims softly in disbelief.

Then his voice turns very quiet. “In that moment, all my anger was just…  _gone_. All I could think of was Mac over there, a soldier, in a place where our soldiers died every day. It  _scared_ me, it really did,” he admits.

“But it also forced me to take a good, hard look at my own life - and I really did  _not_ like what I was seeing.” He grimaces again. “My best friend just gave up his cushy future and was willing to risk his own damn life to help others - and here I was, whining like a spoiled brat because my buddy had a life outside of me! God, I was so ashamed of myself.

“So, I swallowed my pride and asked him for help because I got so deep I just couldn’t get out on my own and I really didn’t want to go to the cops and have it all on my record, you know? And he just-he  _helped_. He had only a few days left before deployment, he spent them helping me fix my goddamn mess.” Bozer shakes his head. “I won’t ever be able to pay him back for that.”

Matty smiles a little. “Mac’s a good friend.”

Bozer nods, his throat so thick he can barely speak. “The  _best_. That’s why he has to be alright, he just has to! He’s a  _good_ guy and good guys ought to have a happy ending, right?” He glances down at her.

She pats him on the arm again. “He will be, Bozer. He’s a fighter, he won’t just give up. And we won’t give up on him either.”

Blinking hard to make the burning in his eyes go away, Bozer just nods again, unable to speak. Then he looks back inside the room, at Mac who’s lying there, still except for rhythmical falling and rising of his chest.

_Keep breathing, Mac,_ Bozer thinks.  _As long as you keep breathing, everything will be fine in the end._


End file.
